Unsuspecting Sunday Afternoon
by hrmny4etrnty2
Summary: Hermione is ready to give something extremely precious to Harry. Will he be willing to accept this particular gift?
1. Chapter 1

**-Unsuspecting Sunday Afternoon**

There are so many important moments in a normal person's life. There are weddings, children being born; getting that job you so desperately wanted. When you were a witch or wizard, important moments multiplied. Passing NEWTs was extremely important to most. Being able to successfully cast your first spell was another. The defeat of the Dark Lord had been _the_ most important moment to date. Now, in her seventh year, Hermione Granger wanted to experience one of the next most important moments in her life before leaving Hogwarts. She had been secretly planning this for weeks. She had not mapped out a plan or tried to study up on the subject, something untrue to form. She had already set herself up for things to not go perfectly, not like a storybook. No, storybooks were just that; not real, not raw. She wanted to remember this moment like no other, in all its imperfect glory.

Then again, she hoped to be able to even experience the moment at all. For this moment, this important occurrence, involved the willing participation of another. In fact, it required the willing participation of the one person she trusted the most. Weeks before, it hit her like a ton of bricks; she trusted this person with her life. Why not trust him with this? She had known him since they were eleven. He had seen her at her worst and vice versa. Yes, the more she had thought about it the more it made sense; clicking together like puzzle pieces.

She calmly made her way to the Great Hall on that Saturday morning. She looked down and wondered if she had chosen appropriate clothing for the day. She never was one for fashion sense. She opted for one of her school skirts, shortening it with a quick sowing spell and a fitted white shirt. This was definitely not the norm for her and she hoped she wouldn't seem too obvious. Once she made it to the doors, she had to force herself to continue moving. There he was, in their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. She knew this was her moment to approach him, hopefully setting into motion the actions she longed to experience. "Good morning, boys." Her tone was cheerful with a smile to match. Ron simply nodded his hello, his mouth too filled with food at the moment.

"Morning, Hermione." She watched her innocent friend fondly, knowing he hadn't a clue of what was about to go down. Harry was, without a doubt, the perfect male specimen. Gone were the days of an awkward, nerdy-looking boy who had no idea what the wizarding world had to offer. That _boy_ was now replaced by a man who had learned to hone his magical skills, accepted the fact that people could love him, and taken a huge liking to Quidditch. The last is what helped his body develop into something young witches longed to touch. She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed her two friends staring at her. "Hermione," Harry began slowly, "stand up."

'_Damn, I should have known better.'_ She continued to mentally scold herself as she found the strength to stand. "What's wrong?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you've never dressed like…_that_ before!" Ron was clearly shocked at her chosen attire. "Are you trying to give us a heart attack? Do you want Harry and me to get detention for beating up every horny wizard that looks at you?"

"Ronald, it's just clothing," she sighed, rolling her eyes in the process. She took that moment to look at Harry, his mouth slightly open and his eyes traveling over her entirety. "Are you going to scold me to?" _'Please say yes, please say yes!_

He shook his head, his eyes returning to hers, following them as she seated herself once again. "Have anything planned for today?"

Hermione inwardly smiled. "Actually Harry, I wanted to discuss something important with you. What have _you_ planned for the day?"

"We've got Quidditch practice after breakfast." Hermione scrunched her nose as she watched Ron finish his sentence with a mouth half full of food. "What?" His eyes shone the true ignorance to her glare.

"Honestly Ron, I feel sorry for any witch you date. You'll have to have a sneeze-guard between the two of you if she plans on any type of conversation at dinner."

"A sneeze what?" Ron looked completely confused as he glanced between an annoyed Hermione and smirking Harry.

"Never mind," she sighed. She gained the courage to look into Harry's eyes once again. "What about after practice?"

"I'm completely yours." At this, Hermione dropped her fork. She coughed lightly as she tried to swallow her food. The last thing she needed was to choke to death. "Hermione, are you okay?"

She sipped some pumpkin juice, allowing her throat to clear. She watched as Ron and Harry exchanged odd looks, eventually returning their gazes to her. "I'm fine, just went down the wrong pipe." Ron shrugged and continued eating while Harry nodded his head with acceptance for the explanation. "Just meet me in our common room after practice."

"Not a problem," he smiled.

Feeling like her first part of the mission was complete; she quickly rose and prepared to leave. "Ron, don't eat so much you throw up during practice. Harry, I'll see you in a while." She smiled warmly and quickly turned away, almost bouncing out of the Great Hall.

Ron and Harry both leaned forward, gazing at Hermione's leaving figure."You can see her damn knickers!" Ron quietly hissed. "What bloody right does she have dressing like that?" He looked to see Harry still staring. "And you! Some bloody help you were! If I didn't know better, you enjoyed that."

"Ron, she's no longer that eleven-year-old we met on Hogwart's Express. She's seventeen…"

"I know how bloody old she is, Harry!"

"She's trying to find herself. I may be her best friend, but I'm not blind. In fact, I'm single and find no embarrassment in enjoying the female form when presented as so."

"Harry, this is Hermione! She's our bossy, know-it-all, study-aholic, best friend." He looked at Harry, watching his eyebrows rise up and down. "You're not right," he sighed in defeat.


	2. Chapter 2

Try as she might, her favorite book was not holding her attention at the moment. She nervously sat on the couch in the private common room awaiting Harry's return from practice. So many emotions were coursing thru her at that moment. She felt anxious, determined, excited…too many things at the moment. She noticed her hands were fidgeting on top of her open book, longing to be doing something else. She tried to force herself not to allow images to invade her mind, for it would only make her upcoming mission more difficult. How on earth was she supposed to do this? This whole way she was approaching this was completely out of character for her. Then again, wasn't that the part that made it more thrilling? This was something that would shock him to his core. In fact, she hoped it shocked him so much that he would say yes without even thinking it thru. "You can do this," she stated quietly, giving herself some extra reassurance. But, the more she had time to think about it, the more she questioned her strategy of the impending proposition. Should she play it off as innocent, like she originally intended? Should she be direct and forward? Should she be teasing about it? In the end, she knew she had to be herself, or else she wouldn't be comfortable, he'd think she was losing it, and then the whole situation would go to hell. Just when she didn't think her nerves could worsen, she felt her stomach knot and her hands turn clammy as she realized the portrait was opening.

He looked like he had quite the practice, but the exhilaration that shown in his beautiful green eyes was evident. "Tell me again why I continue to play Quidditch."

"Because, you're one of the best players Hogwarts has seen in ages and you absolutely love the sport…and the attention." She had to add a smirk as she said the last part.

"Yes, quite the attention whore, I am." He allowed a haughty tone to his voice as he playfully made the declaration. This, along with plopping down on the couch next to her, caused a giggle to escape from Hermione. This alone caught his attention. Hermione can giggle? Sure, they had shared moments of laughter over the years (years that were mainly filled with gloom and torture, he might add), but this was a giggle…something completely girly. Shaking off the moment, he decided to press on. "So, what is it that you needed me for?"

That was a loaded question. There were several ways she could answer it, all leading to the same point. Did she need some more time to go over this? "If you want to get cleaned up first, you can. I know practice can be rough for you." Why was she stalling? At this rate, she would never get the damn question out.

"Nah, it's okay. That is, unless it will take long."

"No, it shouldn't take long." She closed her book and placed it on the table. Trying to get as comfortable as possible, in a failing attempt to calm her nerves, she rearranged herself so that she was sitting Indian-style and facing him.

Any other time, he would have thought nothing of this. Then again, any other time, she wasn't wearing a short skirt without her school robes. Did she completely forget this fact? Did she not realize he had an extremely pleasant view of her knickers? Sure, he had seen the backs of them this morning as she made her way out of the Great Hall, but this time he was able to see the more intimately-covered part. Averting his eyes quickly to her face, he regained composure. "So, what's up?"

"Seventh year is almost over," she began quietly. She started to look down, but knew she needed to see his reaction to what was said. "We've been friends for years now, experiencing so many things together. You're my best friend." The smile that played on her lips was nothing but genuine.

"The closest," he confirmed quietly, grabbing her hands to prove his statement sincere.

Her smile grew wider at this gesture, but only made the butterflies in her stomach swirl even more. "You are truly the only person I trust wholeheartedly. We've had our share of disagreements, but nothing so horrid that we couldn't get over it." Seeing that she had nothing but his undivided attention, she decided to push forward and just get it over with. "Harry, knowing how important you are to me, I've made a decision and have a very important question to ask you." She looked down at his hand still wrapped in hers. "I'm not even going to ask, I'm just going to tell you." She looked him dead in the eyes and took the deepest breath of her life. "I want you to be my first. I want you to take my virginity."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry felt his eyes widen as his mouth became dry. Had he heard her correctly? No, there had to be some mistake. Girls did not go around offering their bodies on a whim, on a daily basis. Except, the more he allowed her words to sink in, he realized that was exactly what just happened. Oh…God…this was an impossible situation. Was he supposed to eagerly accept the invite, like he wanted? If he did, would that make him an awful, horrible pervert? Should he tell her he would think about it, giving him a chance to ponder responsibly and allow her to grasp the concept of what she was offering? If he flat out refused, would she feel humiliated and despise him forever? What were the strings attached to this proposal? Was this supposed to be a once in a lifetime opportunity that would never pass his way again? If they went through with it and liked it, would they begin a romantic relationship? If they went through with it and she wasn't pleased, there would definitely be a barrier between them that would never be removed.

"Harry?"

He quickly realized that he hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, since she lay her request before him. It suddenly felt like his chest was constricting, thinking the answer to this question would affect the destiny of the world. In all reality, the answer would have a huge influence on _their_ little world. Did she consider the huge internal war that this would cause him? There were so many positives, yet equal negatives. He licked his lips, not knowing if he would be able to accurately speak. "Umm…uh…eh…"

Did he have any idea how vulnerable he was making her feel at the moment? Wouldn't a guy kill to have a girl offer her body to him? She quickly calculated in her mind that even if they didn't go through with her offer, their friendship would be changed from this point on. Just those words tumbling carelessly from her mouth made the correct impression that she no longer felt just innocent friendship towards him. She was beginning to feel the urge to quietly crawl to her room, wondering if he would even notice her escape. No, she had to face this and complete it, no matter what his answer would be. He continued to stare at her, making weird noises as he tried his hardest to speak. Seeing that she would have to be the one to get the conversation back on track, she decided to try and lighten the mood, just a little. "If you could try to form complete words and sentences that I understand, it would be greatly appreciated."

He swallowed hard, trying to think what he should say. His mind had still not allowed him to form a definite answer. "Sorry, it's not a normal occurrence for me to be offered the opportunity for…_that_," he stated calmly, with a hint of a smirk.

His slight playfulness was appreciated, confirming that she hadn't just completely made herself look like an idiot. "I realize it is sudden," she paused when she heard him lightly snort, "but it is something I want to do."

He studied the seriousness of her look, the absolute fear of rejection that shown in her eyes. Knowing her, this was not a decision she made lightly. Hermione was not known to be an impulsive person. If anything, he figured this was something she had been contemplating for a while. Before he had a moment to think any further, he found the words escaping from his mouth. "When do you want this to happen?"

Wait, was this his informal way of accepting the invitation for her deflowering? "Um…I was actually hoping you'd agree to tonight." She only lowered her head slightly, still keeping her eyes glued to his stare.

Okay, this was definitely not an answer he was expecting. Then again, when it came to conversations like this, there really was no way to beat around the bush. Hermione had obviously made up her mind that this was what she wanted, saw no reason to prolong the wait, and simply sought his approval and acceptance. Again, the words left his mouth without his mind's permission. "What time do you want to come to my room?"

Hermione allowed the relieved smile to proudly show before engulfing Harry in a strong hug. "Thank you so much!" she quietly exclaimed. Backing away, she grabbed his hands and noticed the lopsided grin she loved so dearly. "This means more to me than you know. How does eight-o-clock sound?"

He nodded in agreement. "Do you want to talk about anything beforehand?" He felt pathetic as he heard his own voice ask the question. But once he saw her sweet smile, he eased up on himself.

"No, Harry, I'd rather wait until after." Without even thinking about it, she kissed him quickly on the cheek and stood. "I'll see you at eight." She swiftly headed up the stairs to her room, not daring to look back.

Harry sat on the couch, allowing the weird and wonderful conversation to swirl through his head. It had to be the strangest exchange he'd ever had with another human. Had he actually just agreed to have sex with Hermione? Even more so, did he just accept the honor of taking her virginity? Indeed, he had. There were positives and negatives about her turning down his offer to talk before this happened. The big positive was obvious; talking about it before may lead to them coming to their senses and then decide not to do it. The big negative was that he had no clue what exactly was expected of him from this point on; and that was somewhat of dangerous territory. He had to be prepared to be honest and truthful when the time did come for them to talk things over. Did he love Hermione? Yes, he was positive about the answer to this question. Was he _in love_ with her? Now, this question definitely deserved some pondering since he had never taken the time to do so before.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione quickly and quietly closed the door to her room, flung herself on her bed and allowed her bliss to surface full force. Harry had just granted her wish, agreed to take this leap with her. It was an extraordinary, terrifying feeling to accept that this event would be real. She realized she had been setting herself up for disappointment and rejection. Now, she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. He had asked about talking things over. Okay, this was a good place to start thinking. What _did_ she want from all of this exactly? She had come to terms that she viewed Harry as more than her best friend. He agreed to do this, so he obviously felt the same way. Then again, he was a hormonal teenage boy so he didn't necessarily have to have romantic feelings to do the naughty deed. No, most boys just needed to feel lust. Is that what he was feeling? She promptly stood in front of her mirror and contemplated this idea. She wasn't what she would consider a raving beauty, but she wasn't ugly and without curves.

She knew that she was thinking about this way too much. He had said yes, which is what she wanted him to say. Now she just needed to keep herself occupied until that evening. What should she wear? The outfit that currently graced her form seemed acceptable. The white, lacy undergarments seemed fitting as well. She viewed these like a virtuous bride viewed the sacredness of a white wedding. She couldn't stop the slight laugh that escaped, realizing that she would not be having one of those.

Now, it was on to the daunting task of killing time until at least dinner time. Wait, she would have to endure dinner time in the Great Hall…sitting with Ron…and Harry. Taking a deep breath, Hermione willed herself to calm down. All she had to do was act normal; well, as normal as a girl could act after propositioning her male best friend for sex. She shook her head, clearing all apprehensions from her mind. She couldn't allow the possibilities of the forthcoming evening to haunt her thoughts for the remainder of the day or else she'd go crazy with worry and desire.

"…and then she was like, 'Tell Harry that if he's interested, I'd love to give us another chance,' and I told her that she probably shouldn't hold her breath." Ron was relaying his most recent 'conversation' with Cho Chang to Harry, but the raven-haired wizard seemed to be off in his own world. Ron looked at him for a moment and furrowed his brow. He looked to both sides of him, noticing that everyone seemed to be involved with their own conversations. "Would you believe Lavender and Pavarti asked me to have a threesome?"

Harry continued to lightly stab some food on his plate and place it in his mouth. "That's great, Ron," he replied, absentmindedly.

Ron stared at him for a moment, then allowed his eyes to move back and forth, not entirely sure what the devil was the matter. He, once again, took note of the empty seat next to Harry and a smirk arose on his lips. "Oh, and Hermione wants us to both have a go at her at the same time. Do you want in the front or the back?" Harry's head whipped up as his fork clanked against his plate. "Ha! I knew that would definitely get your attention!" Just when it looked like Harry had recovered and was about to speak, they heard the doors to the Great Hall open. Ron strained a bit, his smile faltering a little. "Speak of the devil disguised as an angel in that damn short skirt," he muttered. Turning his gaze to Harry, he noted that his best friend continued to stare at the figure heading towards them.

"Evening, boys," Hermione said with a smile as she took a seat next to Harry.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry replied softly as his gaze returned to his plate.

Ron looked back and forth between the two of them, unsure what to make of the odd exchange. "I see you haven't changed out of that bloody outfit," he muttered loudly before taking a huge bite of food.

"Why should I, Ronald? No one else seems to have a problem with it except for you."

"No, I suppose any male with active hormones wouldn't have a problem with it. But, I will remind you that I think of you as a sister. I would treat Ginny with the same despise as I'm treating you at the moment."

Hermione cocked her head, looking down the table a bit, and rested her stare on one Ginny Weasley who, at the moment, was being entertained by Dean Thomas…while sitting on his lap. It was all too obvious that she was entertaining him in return. Hermione returned her stare to Ron, looking rather annoyed.

"That's completely different! She's not showing her arse to the entire male population of Hogwarts!"

She closed her eyes, never feeling more embarrassed in her life. Not even delivering her request to Harry earlier that day came close to this. Closing her eyes, Hermione slammed her silverware onto the table, stood, and stormed out of the Great Hall. Her appetite was all but gone and she could not bear to look at anyone, not even Harry, at this moment. Much like Ron had done after the Yule Ball in their fourth year, he managed to nearly crush her spirits once again; all because he didn't know when to shut up.

Ron slowly chewed his food, knowing hundreds of eyes were staring at him so he dared not look after Hermione's retreating form. Once he sensed people around them continued with their own banter, he took a breath and looked up at Harry. "Thanks a fucking lot," he seethed.

His greens eyes looked up and showed their true darkness. "What the hell is your problem, Ron?"

"We're supposed to be in this together; protecting her like brothers! We can't very well do that if she's on the verge of wiggling her bits for any bloke will to look!" It took all he had to contain the Weasley temper and whisper his exclaim. He had no clue what was wrong with Harry. Did he actually approve of this display? Even worse, did he appreciate this display a little too much?

Harry squint his eyes, trying his damndest to choose his words carefully. I don't think of her as a sister; haven't for several years if you want me to be perfectly honest. She's my best friend. I guess that's the difference between you and me, because only an immature, prat of a brother would disgrace his _sister_ like you just did. A best friend would pick up the shattered pieces of her pride like I plan on doing now." There was no anger left in his voice, just sadness at the pathetic display Ron had caused. Without another word, Harry quietly got up from the table and headed out the door, not knowing exactly what the evening would hold for him now.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: First off, thank so much for the reviews that I've received! Also, thank you for letting me know your views on the whole "virginity" issue. After taking all opinions into consideration, and some contemplation on my part, I've decided…well, read on and you will probably be able to read between the lines (since I don't necessarily come right out and say if he's a virgin or not). I know, I know, I'm evil! Also, you'll probably think I'm even more evil when you get to the bottom of the page…wicked laugh  
Secondly, I am sorry that this posting took me a bit to put up. I can't just write something for the sake of writing it; I have to be in the mood to do so. Hopefully I did a good job on this chapter. Remember, if you want more then don't hesitate to leave a review! Enjoy!**

Hermione lay on her bed, allowing her deep breaths to calm her anger. In all honesty, Ron's words weren't the most hurtful part of the ugly incident. No, the worst part was that she allowed him the power to make her feel like nothing more than a tart right in front of Harry. She hated the fact that she didn't speak up and slam him back with witty words. She wasn't thinking with her mind, merely her emotions. She allowed her embarrassment to swallow her whole. She felt consumed with pity for herself, wondering if her well-laid plans were now bust. Her overactive imagination ignited, permitting thoughts of Ron talking about her to Harry in an unsavory manner to swirl through her mind. But Harry was her best friend. Surely he knew why she dressed that way. He had to, right? Then again, maybe he didn't. Thank goodness she had already asked Dean Thomas to do the nightly checks for her. He wasn't Head Boy, but definitely someone she could trust with the important duty. Even if her chances with Harry were blown, there was no way she was leaving the 'Head' quarters for the rest of the evening. Her head hurt, worry filling her whole being. Wait, was her head actually pounding from the pain?

"Hermione, can I come in?"

Her eyes grew wide, realizing that the banging was on her door…and Harry was on the other side. "Sure," she barely got out.

He entered her room and his heart wanted to break. She wasn't curled in a ball crying her eyes out, she wasn't pacing the room in anger, nor was she skimming through her books in order to locate the perfect hex to use on Ron. Instead, she lay on her bed, looking unbelievably poignant. "I assume it would be incredibly daft of me to ask if you're all right." He was relieved when he heard a small snort of laughter and saw the beginnings of a smile emerging across her plump lips. _Whoa, when the hell did you notice what kind of lips she had?_

"I'm sorry if I worried you, Harry. I'm okay, really. Go, finish your dinner." _After all, wouldn't he need nourishment for the stamina? Oh Merlin, maybe he was considering backing out because of what happened!_

"Nah, I seemed to have lost my appetite." He gradually made his way towards her bed, sitting on the edge. "Ron's a git, Hermione. You know how he can be sometimes." He reached down and grabbed one of her hands, tracing small circles on her warm skin with his thumb. Clearing his throat, he nervously continued to speak. "In all honesty, I think you look gorgeous."

Hermione felt herself take a pause mid breath. She looked gorgeous? No one had ever described her using that word before. She was accustomed to words like bright, genius, bookworm, and plain…never gorgeous. "Thank you." The true appreciation was evident in the two whispered words. "I did it for you, you know," she admitted quietly. A quizzical look crossed Harry's face. She took a deep breath, knowing she had already dangled one foot off the metaphorical cliff. She might as well allow the other foot to follow and fall completely into this situation. "I wanted to attract you, to please you. I wanted you to want me, desire me. I couldn't exactly see that happening while wearing my usual attire."

He was speechless. Now, more than ever, he was confused about what was going to happen. It was true, until he had seen her that morning in her unexpected choice of outfit; he never really took note of Hermione's body. He had noticed her pretty face; beautiful chocolate eyes forever twinkling while taking in the vast knowledge her mind craved. Her intelligence was definitely attractive, if not a bit intimidating at times. He dare not admit to her that her smarts, sometimes, made him feel downright inferior. Divulging that information would just upset her; for while she loved outwitting most people, she would hate knowing he felt mediocre when compared to her smarts.

"Harry, did I say something wrong?"

He slowly shook his head. "No, I just can't believe you'd do that for me," he stated quietly with amazement. "You didn't really have to, though. I…I would have said yes anyway." He smirked, causing a genuine smile to emerge on Hermione's face.

Without another thought, she sat up and engulfed him in an enthusiastic hug. "That's why I wanted it to be you, Harry. No one else sees me like you do." She drew out of the embrace, looking him in the eyes. "No one knows me like you do."

It was in that second that he realized just how perfect this all was. Nothing else in the world made more sense to him, and he was going to reach out and capture the metaphorical snitch. Their eyes were locked, a comfortable silence falling between the two of them. He reached up and moved a stray lock of hair behind her ear, followed by resting his hand on her warm cheek.

She closed her eyes and let out a content sigh. Never before had someone made her feel so special. She could tell he was leaning closer and willed her eyes to open. A small, sweet smile played on his lips. Her eyes drifted shut again and she closed the remaining space between them.

A tender first kiss opened the flood gate on unspoken emotions. Each continued with their sweet assault on the other's lips, their hands becoming lost in equally messy, wild hair. Hermione pulled back and began to carefully removed Harry's glasses when he suddenly stopped her.

"I want to see everything; every expression you make, every inch of your skin, every curve of your body. I want to see it all."

She felt her heart swell at his words. Grabbing his hand, she began to lean back onto the bed and pulled him with her. Limbs became awkwardly tangled as their lips crashed together. Her arms wrapped around his neck while his elbows rested against the bed in an attempt to keep himself propped up; a feat not easily met since she pulled him as close to her as possible. They rested comfortably on their sides, facing one another while exchanging soft touches. "I'm scared, Harry. I want this more than anything, but I'm afraid; afraid I won't please you, afraid it will hurt."

He leaned in for a soft kiss, his left hand gently gripping the back of her neck. "Hermione, no matter what, you could never disappoint me. Simply being here and knowing you chose me…I can't even describe how that makes me feel."

"You don't have to explain it," she whispered, "because it's what I felt when you said yes to me." She sat up and kneeled on the bed, pulling him up as well. "I'm ready now, Harry. I don't want to wait," she urged quietly. She picked up her wand and cast a silencing charm. Before giving him a chance to reply she grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it off, leaving only a white, lacy bra to cover her chest.

Instinctively, his mouth began to water and his heart rate increased. Before now, Hermione Granger and lacy delicates wouldn't have gone together in his mind. But, at this moment, he couldn't imagine her in boring unmentionables. He continued to stare, watching as she climbed off the bed and allowed her skirt to fall to the floor, revealing a pair of knickers that matched the bra. He licked his lips in anticipation, knowing his tongue would soon be exploring the flesh that was being exposed for his eyes only. Seeing her make her way back onto the bed, he got to work on his own clothing, first removing his jumper, followed by his tie. While unbuttoning his shirt, he saw Hermione tentatively reach forward and begin working on his belt and pants. Promptly ridding himself of everything but his boxer shorts, he joined her on the bed once again so their exploration could begin.

She made the first move, her hands caressing his biceps and chest. "Lay down, Harry." Her request was sweet, her eyes holding the look of absolute curiosity. He did as she asked, knowing she was about to study him like a book. He didn't mind, really. Her touches were surprisingly electrifying. He'd gladly give aid in her discovery of the male form. Her fingertips lightly brushed against his nipples, causing an intake in his breath. _Who would've thought _that_ would feel so good?_ He took notice of the pleased look on her face, repeating her actions with mild delight. He allowed a growl to escape this time, Hermione's smile only growing bigger. She went for a third try and noticed a very slight movement out of the corner of her right eye. She turned her attention towards the area in question; his boxer shorts. The bulge was apparent and the sight of it made her body tingle. Not moving her gaze, she repeated her actions for a fourth time and watched as his erection slightly twitched. This, he realized, was something that fascinated her. For him, it was simply sweet, pleasurable torture.

Before he knew it, her lips were caressing the skin of his stomach; followed by her tongue. He shuddered due to the sensitivity and delight it caused. Her attention seemed to return to his boxer shorts. She looked in his direction and saw he had one eyebrow quirked, as if he was questioning what her next move would be. "I want to do something, to try something. Will you let me?" He didn't trust his voice, so simply nodded his head in approval. Her fingers gripped the waistband of his shorts and she pulled them down at an excruciatingly slow rate. _All good things come to those who wait. All good things come to those who wait._ As long as he kept repeating those words in his head, he wouldn't push her hands out of the way and rip the damn things off. Once the offending piece of fabric was divested, her interest was fully on his throbbing erection.

Never before had she seen something that was so unusual yet so beautiful. One hand grasped his cock, applying comfortable pressure, while the fingers on her other hand softly touched the head. Her ears were greeted with the wonderful sound of Harry's animalistic moans. She wondered what other noises she could cause him to make. She watched his cock as she continued to stroke it, seeing that pre-cum had oozed out the slit. Her thirsty curiosity needed to be quenched. She positioned herself on her knees and leaned down. Her eyes darted up, wanting to catch Harry's reaction, and she slowly licked the head. She saw his eyes widen as he released a feral grunt. Pleased with this initial response, she took the next step and produced a sufficient amount of saliva in her mouth before wrapping her lips around the head. She was almost positive that Harry wasn't even trying to form proper words, merely allowing noises ranging from 'nuh' to 'ung' as she worked her mouth to take more and more of his cock in. She wanted to do this; needed to do this. It was as much for him as it was for her, wanting to give him undivided pleasure. Keeping this in mind, she prepared herself not to gag and didn't stop her assault until his tip reached her throat.

Harry's noises were now completely incoherent as she continued the sweet torture. Never before had he experienced anything remotely compared to this pleasure. The feel of her warm mouth engulfing the most intimate, sensitive part of his body was absolutely indescribable. Every time the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, an extra shot of electricity jolted throughout his entire body. He began to feel the fluttering sensation in his stomach, alerting him that Hermione definitely had a natural talent for performing oral sex. "Hermione," he gasped, his breath becoming more ragged as she continued working at a fixed pace, "I'm gonna…I'm…"

She readied herself for the result of her sexual assault, relaxing her gag reflexes completely. If she was doing this, she was going to do it all the way. Having shared a room with various girls the year before, she had heard plenty of sexual escapade stories. She always pretended not to listen but in the end, curiosity got the best of her. One of the comments she remembered hearing was that guys loved it when a girl swallowed. She honestly didn't understand it but right now, in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to do that for Harry. She sensed his thighs tightening, heard his groans and grunts, and then felt his warm seed spurt into her waiting mouth. She had mixed emotions when it came to the taste. While it wasn't delightful, it was far from being sickening. As she felt him go limp, a sense of accomplishment and adoration swelled within her. Here she had a man, someone considered to be one of the most powerful young wizards of their time, and she had just had him in the palm of her hand…literally!

Harry stared at her, not believing what had just taken place. This girl who was burgeoning on the brink of womanhood had just made his emotions soar to a place he thought was unreachable. He, Harry Potter, had just experienced utopia. He now understood what the other guys in his dorm had talked about. A man could never appreciate the gesture of a girl swallowing what he had to offer until it happened to them. Knowing Hermione was completely new to this, it came as quite a shock when she didn't pull away in horror. Then again, this was _Hermione_ and she never did things half-arsed. He watched her, shyly smiling at the act that had just occurred, and was in awe. Without a moment's thought, he sat up and their lips connected. His tongue teasing her lips, asking permission for entry, which she quickly granted.

Hermione learned the techniques of French kissing quickly, simply mimicking Harry's actions. As much as she was enjoying herself, a questioned loomed in her mind amid the passion. "Did I do okay?" she asked in an almost timid voice.

He stared at her with an incredulous expression. _She can't be serious! _"You did better than okay. The words bloody fantastic spring to mind," he lightly laughed. And there it was; that damn shy, innocent smile gracing her now experienced lips. His heart sped up as he thought about the fact that he wanted her to know of the euphoria she had just caused him. He rubbed noses with her, causing a small giggle to escape her lips. "Lay down," he commanded softly, "it's your turn now."


End file.
